Loneliness
by Monika Vera Forest
Summary: Moving into an apartment of his own, Alfred finds that his upstairs neighbor can be louder than he looks. US/UK oneshot


I have always been childish- through high school, through college and even now as I've moved into a new apartment all by my lonesome. I laugh at childish things, I have a childish view on love, when I get upset I act like a child, and most importantly, I have childish fears. Back when I was still little I would cry whenever my parents left me alone for an evening. The darkness and the ghosts that I imagined to be in it scared me more than anything. I found some relief in the murmur of the TV and the protective lamplights, but the constant nagging fear that something was there, hidden by the darkness behind my window, staring at me and waiting for me to lower my guard and turn off the lights.

Over the years, the ghosts disappeared, but the fear never did. I was still petrified when my parents left, and for the longest time I couldn't name what exactly it was that I was afraid of, until one day it dawned on me- I was afraid of being alone. Thus, moving to my own apartment all on my own was a very courageous step for me. Something in my mind that I wouldn't survive the first night and by evening, I had set my phone by my bed, ready to dial my parents or friends if ever the fear would become too big.

However, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I found that it wouldn't be necessary. A floor above me, music started playing and footsteps in the rhythm of an improvised dance beat against the floor, breaking the suffocating silence. I was grateful, up until the point when the music stopped and the creaking of a bed took it's place, along with other sounds I had hoped not to hear. That was always followed by hushed whispers and laughter, that slowly lulled me to sleep, far earlier than I would have on my own.

This ritual took place most every night and a few days later, I got to finally know my upstairs neighbour. Arthur Kirkland, an odd man, a couple of years my senior, worked with me in Colibry publishing company. He had a major in English Philology, and a year after graduating, he had moved from England to the United States to live with his boyfriend, Francis.

Honestly, if I didn't hear the proof of opposite every night, Arthur would have never striked me as a guy who would have loud sex every night. But he was happy with Francis, it could be seen from his face. He never stopped smiling, or talking about the Frenchman, and he came up a lot. I had grown a habit of complaining to Arthur about my sleepless nights on our way to work- the publishing company was only a few blocks away and we often ended up walking together and sharing a breakfast in one of the local cafe's. Complain as I might, though, I was, in actuality, grateful to the man who never let me feel the crushing silence and loneliness, and try as I might, I was growing more than a little attached to him. So when one day the music no longer played, the bed no longer creaked and he no longer smiled, I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks.

My nights became restless and I had to rely on large amounts of caffeine to get me through the day more often than not, but that was not my main concern. Having Arthur walk by me in silence every day, seeing him concentrated on his work with a dead look, and no longer seeing him eat was what made my heart ache. Empty days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, until one day Arthur didn't show up to work. Our co-workers, nor our boss couldn't give me an explanation as to why he was absent and, like the worry wart I was, I began to suspect the worst. I asked to get off early and the boss, kind woman as she was, allowed me. I assumed she was as worried for Arthur as I was, his change hadn't gone unnoticed.

An hour later, worried and underslept, carrying roses and chocolate, I stood in front of Arthur's apartment door, knocking on it. To my utter horror, there was no response, but I could hear the silent murmur of the TV and that forced me to stay and keep knocking. I had learned a long time ago that if you annoy someone long enough, they'll finally pay attention to you, but those ten minutes felt surely like the longest time I've ever spent annoying someone.

I was about to run the door down, when it opened, Arthur's tear-stained, tired face sticking out from the little gap. He eyed me, eyed the items I held and his gaze dropped to the floor. He had been expecting to find someone else here, that much was obvious, but I was simply happy to see him.

"Hey… I, uh, didn't see you at work today and … came to check if everything was okay…"

I offered him a smile, and to my surprise found him opening the door, stepping out from the doorway as an invitation for me to come inside. I gladly took it, eyes captured by the amount of antique furnishing in the apartment. The gold rimmed mirror, the ebony cupboard crafted with finesse- it all must have cost a fortune. Having taken that all in for a moment, I turned to the Brit who was trying to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Forgive me, Alfred, it's been a horrible few weeks so it's quite a mess in here," he said, bringing my attention to the used tissues and dirty clothes scattered around the floor. I shrugged. The state of my apartment was much worse.

"Here, these are for you. I figured you'd need some cheering up," I replied, deciding not to comment or ask about the state of apartment, nor the state of Arthur. I watched him accept the gifts and scurry into the kitchen to find a vase. I sluggishly followed.

I had never imagined an apartment could be so much like its owner, but this place just screamed Arthur. Everything was old fashioned, yet beautiful and elegant, even the kitchen. He had even managed to hide the microwave so it wouldn't ruin the atmosphere the ebony furniture and dark walls gave. If it wasn't for the city that stared back at me through the window, I could have believed that I traveled back in time to a kitchen of a middle-ages nobleman. ...An English nobleman at that, too. The smell of tea that always lingered around Arthur seemed ten times as strong in the kitchen and I glanced at one of the drawers,wondering if I'd find it stuffed to brim with tea. I wouldn't be surprised.

"These are very beautiful, Alfred, thank you," I heard Arthur speak as he tried to set the crystal vase with the roses to the middle of the table. The dark red of the roses matched with the ebony and I found myself smiling. Trying to line up the vase, Arthur looked so concentrated, his nose scrunched up and his lips a tight line.I couldn't imagine anything quite cuter than that.

The vase lined up, Arthur turned to me, looking at me and my smile for the longest of time, before taking the few steps that separated us both, wrapping me up in his arms, making my heart race and my arms shake as they closed around his smaller form. I dared but to whisper his name; "... Arthur?"

"Please help me…"

For a second, I forgot breathing, I forgot the world, my arms tightening around Arthur. There was nothing more that I wanted to do than protect him. I realized in that moment how hopelessly in love I was.

"I'm afraid of being alone…"

Despite myself, I breathed a light laugh.

"... Me too."

The ghosts, the fears, it all seemed to disappear that day, and Arthur took the place of it all. Arthur who made my days brighter, Arthur who made me cry, Arthur who made me smile. He was my everything, he was the one that made me stop fearing loneliness, because I knew I'd never be alone again.


End file.
